


Another Balcony Scene

by Madlyie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fluff, I am not sorry, I mean it, Jehan has a balcony full of flowers, Just wait and see!, M/M, You'll probably get a sugar shock, and Courfeyrac is a little Marius, like a lot of fluff, so many clichees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlyie/pseuds/Madlyie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One thing Courfeyrac loved about Paris in spring was that everyday he saw something he never noticed before.</p><p>He didn’t even have to look for it or pay attention. It just happened, every time he opened the door or even the window something beautiful caught his eye or something sad that made the beauty shine even brighter and reminding him that it was nothing that should be taken for granted."</p><p>And one day Courfeyrac sees a red-haired boy on a balcony full of flowers and that's the moment he falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Balcony Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Well... I don't know how that happened. I saw that picture of a balcony full of flowers on tumblr and some days ago I watched an open air performance of Romeo and Juliet and Jehan is my darling and I love him and that's what my brain made of it. 
> 
> Sorry for mistakes. English is not my first language so please don't be mad at me. ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this little fluffy... something. ;)

 

 

 

One thing Courfeyrac loved about Paris in spring was that everyday he saw something he never noticed before.

He didn’t even have to look for it or pay attention. It just happened, every time he opened the door or even the window something beautiful caught his eye or something sad that made the beauty shine even brighter and reminding him that it was nothing that should be taken for granted.

Sometimes he just stood up an hour earlier before he had to go to university just to walk through the streets and to breathe in the warm air filled with a thousand different voices and smells and lives.

 

It happened on a mild day at the end of April.

 

He took a different way to the metro station just because he felt like doing it. There was a small alley he had passed about a thousand times since he lived in the city but he never actually walked through it. And since he still had a lot of time before his lecture started he turned to the left and didn’t give it much thought.

 

It was a small street like there were hundreds in Paris but each had its personal note.

In some you could hear the cars passing by even though the street itself was almost empty. Another one was filled by the music coming from an opened window and someone singing along loudly. In another one you could smell the coffee from one end to the other from the small indie coffee shop around the corner and another one looked like you had travelled back in time because there were old tinged lanterns and doors with flaked off colour.

This one was narrow but still filled by the morning sunshine flooding over the roof tops. It looked like it had been made for a travelling brochure and Courfeyrac loved it. He loved the grey of the cobble stones and the beige of the houses that were smiling at each other with tiny balconies above the street.

One of it was so overcrowded with flowers that it looked like it could barely manage the weight. He didn’t know any of their names but it was an explosion of pastel blossoms and green leaves in different shapes and shades. The balcony door was framed by trails with small lilac flowers and even pots hanging from other pots because the railing didn’t offered enough space.

It looked beautiful and sweet and he had to smile because that was why he loved the city so much.

 

There are little wonders all around that you only see when you open your eyes to the world.

 

He just wanted to move on as a person appeared on the balcony and he stopped dead in his tracks.

 

How had he mocked Marius as he came home one day and didn’t stop talking about the girl he saw across the street and fell in love with just by looking into her eyes. How had he tried to cheer up Grantaire in the times before Enjolras had eventually come around and realised that what he was feeling for the cynic was love actually. Courfeyrac had held him when he was drunk and rambled how his heart and soul had been struck by a lighting the first time he had listened to Enjolras talking. He never had thought he would actually understand how they felt because Courfeyrac wasn’t in love with just one person. He was in love with life, he was in love with the world and all its beauty; he loved the sparkling eyes of a woman for one night or the infectious laugh of a man for one day.  
  
But by the time the boy appeared on the balcony he forgot any of this.

 

He wasn’t only beautiful.

He looked like a magic creature straight out of an old fantasy novel.

 

He carefully picked a light yellow flower and tugged it into the long and loose braid of red hair. It had a darker shade more like copper and practically shone in the sunlight and some wavy curls were falling in his face dancing on his cheeks. The lilac pullover fit perfectly to the colours and multiple braided bracelets slung around his wrists.

Even from the down on the streets he could see the fond smile lightening up his delicate features and he his heart skipped a beat.

Or three.  

 

And Courfeyrac just stood there and stared until the boy disappeared again without noticing him.

 

 

***

 

 

On the following day he automatically took the way through the alley but didn’t saw the boy again. Yet he found a sweet red flower that must have been falling down on a cobble stone and it made him starting to grin the entire day in the weirdest situations.

He even smiled at the people who walked out of Starbucks or the grumpy guy who sat next to him in his second lecture and everyone looked at him as if he was completely crazy.

 

From now on he walked through the street every morning on his way to the metro station and even if he had nothing else to do he stood up. Sometimes he saw the boy again from afar how he watered the flowers in the morning or how he just picked a blossom with so much tenderness as if he was apologizing to the plant but every time when he came close enough he had went back into the house again.

 

Courfeyrac hadn’t got a plan or any idea what he should do but still he stood up each morning at the same time to walk through that alley.

 

When he first told his friends because they realized he seemed to be even happier than usually and a lot more distracted Grantaire had just laughed at him and said that he was turning into a Marius what was extremely helpful just like Marius himself saying he could try to throw some pebbles at the windows (seriously Pontmercy?) before Enjolras growled that they should all shut up because life wasn’t just for fun and it was finally semester break so they had work to do.

As even Combeferre couldn’t hold back his laughter the meeting had been declared adjourned.

 

Alright, maybe he was turning into Marius but there was an important difference Courfeyrac and his roommate.  
While Marius had been all delighted he had still sat there being desperate for weeks because he couldn’t find the girl he fell in love with. He had tried everything but he had been concerned that she wouldn’t feel the same or that he would never see her again until he did and Cosette was as lovely and adorable as he had imagined her.

 

Courfeyrac was different.

He was happy. Every morning he walked down that street he was happy because and when he saw the boy even if he only caught a glimpse on him he felt like he couldn’t be happier. He felt like every morning he was walking through his own dream.

 

But that eventually changed on one day in the middle of May as he took his usual road a little earlier than the days before and smiled as he saw the boy on the balcony with his smile and suddenly he looked down an their eyes met and he stopped moving, breathing.

 

The smile widened just a little as Courfeyrac didn’t look away and he took a bright yellow flower from one of the plant and let it fall over the railing to the street almost shyly before he turned around and disappeared.

 

Courfeyrac breathed out.

He made a few steps forward and saw the flower lying on the ground. As he took it carefully something changed because now he was sure that all the time he hadn’t been dreaming the boy on the balcony.

From now on he couldn’t stop wondering what his name might be, his favourite book, his favourite sweet and his opinion of modern art or croissants with cheese stuffing. He wondered what he was doing when he wasn’t sitting on the balcony, if he gave his flowers names or to what music he listened when he was sad.

 

Courfeyrac never had been insecure. He had no reason, he was great. He had been told a lot of times that he was pretty, his hair was almost as awesome as Grantaire’s and he was witty and smart. But still he was never brave enough to ring – not that he hadn’t looked at the door but there were just so many nameplates and he couldn’t just ask everyone in this house: “Hey, does the beautiful red haired elf that I totally fell for with the park on his balcony lives here?” because that would be creepy right? But maybe he would have kept that idea in mind if he didn’t come up with something better.

 

He couldn’t even deny that he was like Marius anymore just that _he_ knew exactlywhere the love of his life lived and that he saw him everyday. So he was obviously not as brave as Marius Pontmercy and well… that was not something he had ever expected to say.

 

***

 

One day at the beginning of June Courfeyrac woke up and looked out of the window to see that the clouds seemed to spill out all the water they had hold back in the last weeks and his heart dropped.  

 

He had gotten so used to stand up every morning, to make himself a coffee, take his bag and walk out of the door to make his way to that small, beautiful alley to see the even more beautiful boy with flowers in his hair and on his balcony.

 

And now? What was going to happen when it rained like that? Was he going to be there? Would he be waiting and wondering where he was if he wouldn’t come?

And Courfeyrac realized that he couldn’t just sit around just because some raindrops could be falling on his head.

He had a plan – no, he hadn’t got a plan, he had a _mission_ (without a plan) – and no one was going to keep him from that.

 

Marius looked at him as if he was a total manic when he grabbed the bright red umbrella that he had gotten from Enjolras one day - the man really had to learn that gifts didn’t necessarily had to be practical but somehow he had given up the hope that would ever happen – and straightened his bowtie with a last look into the mirror before he marched out of the building.

 

It probably hadn’t been the best idea he ever had.

It was probably one of the worst ideas he ever had.

It was raining and not the nice and sweet kind of English summer rain; it was the bad and evil kind of European summer _thunderstorm_ rain.

 

When he turned around the corner he was already soaked to the bone and his hair fell into his eyes.

But still with the rain Paris was beautiful. It was another kind of beautiful, the beauty that didn’t make you happy but nostalgic and a little bit melancholic.

The flowers over the street hanged their heads and exposed a lonely figure on the balcony. As he came closer he saw the boy leaning over the railing, his red hair falling over his shoulders and he seemed to look out for something, no, for _someone_ , Courfeyrac realized and his heart jumped when he smiled as their eyes met and it was like the sun broke through the clouds even though the rain was still falling.

The boy raised his finger with a pleading look, his lips forming the simple word “wait”, before he turned around and disappeared through the door.

 

Courfeyrac stayed exactly where he was, he didn’t move, he waited for something to happen, his brain stopped functioning probably and his heart was beating so fast that he was afraid it would jump out of his chest.

 

It took less than a minute before the door under the balcony opened and there he stood in a mint green sweater, red hair wet and eyes widened and once more Courfeyrac knew that he was the most beautiful human being he had ever seen. He had freckles on his nose, tiny red freckles and the masterpiece of any artist could be jealous of the curves of his lips.

 

“You’re here,” he breathed out and his voice was like music.

“Of course I am,” was the only thing Courfeyrac could answer because of course he was.

“It’s raining.”

“You’re outside as well.”

“I like the rain,” he simply said, “what’s your reason?”

 

“You.”

 

As the other man smiled the freckles on his nose started to dance and Courfeyrac had never cared less about the rain because sunshine was standing right in front of him.

 

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. <3  
> Come and say hi on [tumblr](http://sky-blue-thoughts.tumblr.com/). :)


End file.
